


Tale As Old As Time

by ninwrites



Series: Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? [7]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Attempt at Humor, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Crushes, Dramatic Magnus, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Gen, He Is An Actor After All, High School play, M/M, Painting, Sappy, as always, flirty Magnus, kind of, paint fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7019239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where a play leads to a paint fight and the rest becomes history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tale As Old As Time

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this prompt: _'i'm painting all the sets for the school play and you're helping me but you're terrible at this stick to acting honestly'_
> 
> AKA Another high school au whatevs. sorry if your name is sarah i'm sure you're a lovely person i just needed a name.

At first, Alec thinks he's misheard.

"Sorry, what?"

Isabelle rolls her eyes and sighs exasperatedly. "I _said_ , I've signed us up for drama club."

 _Huh._ So he had actually heard her right.

Isabelle watches him expectantly, as she flops into the seat opposite his. They don't share any classes, due to Alec being a year above, so they usually spend lunches and breaks together. Unlike other siblings, who fight and argue and can't wait to get away from each other, the two of them are thicker than theives, have always been very close, and don't actually mind spending time with each other.

That is, of course, when Isabelle isn't signing Alec up for things without asking him first.

"Drama club." Alec repeats, more to convince himself than anything else.

"Yes." Isabelle replies, unscrewing the lid of her bottle. "That's what I said. Drama club."

"But I don't - I don't act." Alec protests. He's not the most confident person, not when it comes to strangers, or people he doesn't really know that well. And, there's the fact he has no interest in acting or drama in the first place.

Which his sister is fully aware of.

"I know, but that's the thing - you don't _have_ to."

She's smirking, like she's just found a chest of gold or learnt a juicy secret, and he hates that he has to ask - because that's why she's smirking, she knows he has to ask - but he wants to know what she's gotten him into, and he knows he doesn't have another choice.

"And why not?"

"Well," Isabelle leans forward, eyes sparkling. " _I'm_ going to audition, but you don't need to, 'cause I've signed you up for production itself. You know, backstage work. You won't have to act, you'll just be helping bring it all together."

"What I still don't understand," Alec replies. "Is why? I mean, if you wanted to join to act, then that's fine, but why did you sign me up as well?"

"Because I like doing things with you." Isabelle says innocently. "And because I think it will be something fun for the both of us. It provides me with an outlet, and possibly a start to my future career, and it gives you an extracurricular, something to fill your time with that isn't moping and archery."

"I do more than just mope." Alec protests weakly.

"Besides," Isabelle continues, her tone changing slightly, softer, something he mistrusts - he can only tell because he knows her so well. "If I happen to find someone cute, for you, well, then that's just a wonderful coincidence isn't it?"

Alec makes a low, irritated noise in his throat. "Why must you insist on doing this to me?"

"Because I love you." Isabelle states simplistically. "And because you have been woefully single for far too long."

Alec sighs. "I think 'woefully' is a little harsh."

"I don't."

Alec leans back in his chair huffily, crossing his arms loosely across his chest.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" He asks, mainly for the sake of it.

Isabelle pauses, he assumes out of either respect or just to add emphasis. "I mean, you could try, but - no, it's very unlikely."

She smirks and reaches over to pat his arm affectionately.

"You'll have fun." She promises.

"We'll see about that."

 

* * *

 

Alec's reminded why he's not the world's biggest theatre fan as soon as he enters the room for the club's first meeting.

Firstly, there are far too many people there for him to be comfortable, but on top of that, they're all so _loud._ Everyone's chatting to different people all at once, and none of them at a reasonably low decible. He can't concentrate on one conversation or bite of sound before he's being dragged onto the next, and then the next after that. His ears pick up snatches of conversations he cares very little about - he doesn't even know who Sarah is, let alone why it matters who she left last week's party with - and he's filled with the urge to _get the hell out of there._

If he slips out now, Isabelle won't even notice. She's too busy talking to some actual theatre kid - Meli-someone, Alec isn't really invested in who her latest target is. He can probably make it home in time to go for an early jog before he starts his homework.

Except, luck isn't on his side. Then again, it never really is, to be fair.

"Alec?"

He turns around at the sound of his name, exclaimed in surprise by the girlfriend of his best friend. His hopes of escape are quickly diminished, although the veritable possibilities in the first place were pretty slim.

"Hi, Clary."

She steps forward and hugs him, her head barely reaching his chin. Despite her petite frame, her arms are tight around his torso, and he has little choice but to return the hug. Not that it's a great discomfort.

He spots Jace over the top of her head, sauntering over to them with the one of the most self-satisfied grins Alec thinks he's ever had the misfortune of being at the recieving end of.

"So you got roped into this as well?"

Clary pulls back and glances at Jace incredulously. "You volunteered." She reminds him.

Jace grins and shrugs, as though it isn't an important fact.

"But, seriously dude, what are you doing here?" He asks, reaching out to clap a hand on Alec's shoulder in a very manly, very brotherly move.

"Iz signed me up." Alec explains.

"And you sound very excited about it." Jace jokes.

Clary rolls her eyes and turns to Alec fondly. He hadn't liked her at the start, because to him, she had just shown up with her big, round green eyes and latched herself onto Jace, and he had been worried that she would end up taking his best friend away from him.

As it turns out, he was wrong, and in his opinion, that's not necessarily a bad thing.

"Jace is auditioning, because he's decided he deserves the lead role and should rightfully get it." Clary says, ignoring Jace's sound of protest. "And I'm assuming that Iz is hoping for an important role, and I'm here for set deco and probably costumes and makeup - this isn't really my first time - but, without sounding rude ... what are you going to do?"

"Backstage work, apparently. Not that I'm entirely sure what that will entail."

"You'll probably be on props and stuff," Clary guesses. "Although, if you ever need something to do, painting sets is most definitely a lot of fun and not at all a tiresome task that drags on and quite possibly shaves a few years off your lifespan."

Alec laughs, short and uninhibited, earning a genuine smile from Clary.

"Alright, alright, listen up. All aspiring actors on the left ... everyone else, on the right." The drama teacher, Mr Fade - or Malcolm as he insists on being called - waves his hands haphazardly.

The students meander to the sides they've been sent to, Alec following Clary and standing close by her. He recognises a few faces, and some by names - Simon, Clary's best friend is over on this side, as is Lily, a girl from his Lit class who's he's always found intimidating, and yet whose opinions on _The Great Gatsby_ are strangely insightful.

Malcolm starts talking, something about the intense auditioning process, whilst waving his hands around an awful lot - it's a little distracting. Not that Alec has to pay attention, as he's not an 'aspiring actor'.

He watches absentmindedly as the other side split into groups - for what reason, he's not exactly sure. Are they auditioning as groups? Groups of people auditioning for one character? Groups of characters for specific teams?

"I wonder who'll get the lead as the Beast." Clary comments idly.

"The who now?" Alec asks.

"The Beast. Adam. You know, the main character of the play. Beauty and _the Beast._ "

Alec makes a strange noise in is throat, an almost 'huh' kind of sound. Clary looks at him curiously, and he shrugs one shoulder.

"You didn't know?" Clary asks.

"No," Alec admits. "But I mean, it's not a problem. I like the story - it's not my favourite, but it's still good."

"And your favourite is..."

Alec looks down at his feet and mumbles his answer. "Brave."

Clary laughs softly, and Alec looks up sharply, almost scarily fast. "It's a fantastic movie about a character who stands for what she believes in and she refuses to marry someone she's just met. It's admirable."

Clary stifles another laugh, and Alec's eyes narrow. "No Merida jokes. I get enough of those from Jace. "

Clary nods, smiling amusedly. She mimes a zip across her mouth, and Alec finds himself smiling along with her. He shakes his head, but try as he might, he is unable to wipe the grin away.

"Okay, people, listen up." Malcolm claps his hands. "I'm going to run through auditions now, for those of you on the production side, there's a sheet with job slots, just put your name down next to the ones you want to do. That way no one can complain about getting a job they don't want."

There are a lot less people on the production side, and so it only takes a few minutes for Alec to put his name down - once a pen is found. He waits for Clary, and once she's done, they both wave to Isabelle and Jace - who are waiting for their turn - and head outside where the air is clearer and quiet enough for Alec to finally be able to hear himself think.

"You want to get a drink? Something to eat?" Clary asks him once they're both out of the drama room.

"I have to be back when Iz is done - mind you Jace will probably want a ride too - but as long as that happens ... yeah, I'm cool for a bite."

Clary grins. "We can go to that place just a few blocks down the street. It's not too far, and the coffee is to die for."

"You had me at coffee." Alec jokes, and it feels nice, to be so casual, and with Clary - who he spent a ridiculous amont of time, now that he thinks about it, hating for no valid reason.

He thinks that, even if he does have to participate in this play, at least he gets to do it with people he knows and likes. At the very least, it's bound to make the next few months bearable.

 

* * *

 

"Are you nervous?"

"Nervous? Pfft, I'm pumped. You know I'm going to get a good role - I'm thinking the Beast, personally."

Alec frowns as he walks into his siblings' conversation mid-way through. He rounds the breakfast bench and heads straight to the fridge.

"What are you two on about?" He asks, off-handedly.

"The casting list is supposed to be out today." Isabelle explains for him. "Jace thinks he's going to get the lead role, but he better not, because I'm going to be Belle and that would just be creepy."

"Why will you get to play Belle?" Jace asks. "Won't that be weird, as it's basically your name."

"No," Isabelle replies, shaking her head, her shiny black hair swaying. "Because no one calls me Belle. And besides, my audition was fantastic."

"Just because she can't cook Jace, doesn't mean that she can't act." Alec replies diplomatically, carefully avoiding the container of Isabelle's latest creation. He's not sure what it is, or even if it looks like its supposed to, and he doesn't want to put himself in a dangerous situation if he can help it.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Isabelle says. "And pretend you didn't say the first half of that sentence."

Alec smiles wryly and takes out the milk.

"First daily caffeine fix is brewed." Jace comments, nodding towards the steel machine that holds the source of Alec's morning happiness.

Alec nods in thanks and busies himself with making his drink. Jace picks up an apple from the fruit bowl and throws it up into the air a few times before taking a loud bite. Isabelle glares as she cards her fingers through her hair, seperating the strands into sections for braiding. It's not necessarily quiet - what with Jace's presence causing enough noise as it is, let alone paired with Isabelle's seemingly endless stream of comments - but it's still peaceful, and Alec, despite being a lover of silence and most things secluded, wouldn't change any of it.

He knows that there isn't going to be a lot of quiet, or even alone time, for the next couple of months. And it's scary, to have things changing so suddenly, but there's a part of him that desperately wants to do it, even just to prove to himself that he can.

It's ridiculous, but at the same time ... he's still kind of determined to do it. It's a goal, at its core, and Alec is a very goal-oriented person. He likes having things to do, things to aim for, things to accomplish.

And this play, is just something to complete, a goal to accomplish. That's it.

 

* * *

 

Isabelle drags Alec to the message board near the drama room as soon as he steps out of his classroom. He stumbles and almost drops his books, not that she seems to care in her haste to reach the casting list.

"You don't have to race to get there," Alec mumbles beneath his breath. "The decisions have already been made."

"But I'm excited," Isabelle protests, still dragging him through the hallway, forcefully pushing past other people if they don't move out of her path fast enough. "And I want to see."

"Then why do I have to come along, too?"

"Becuase you love me." Isabelle states, as though that is answer enough.

Alec can't be bothered trying to argue with her, knowing it would only be fruitless anyway, and so he snaps his mouth shut and bites back any words trying to escape. He grips his books tighter and mumbles apologies to anyone he or his sister bump into.

There's a huddle of people around the board, most of whom Alec recognises but only by face, not name, all brushing against each other to see the board. Isabelle grips Alec's arm tighter and expertly manouevers to the front, until they're pretty much face-to-face with the wall.

He hears Isabelle's squeal, feels a smile spread on his own face before he even reads the name.

Isabelle Lightwood - Belle

Pride swells within him, and he can only laugh as Isabelle wraps her arms around him. He's careful of his books, where they're positioned, but his touch is firm and tender. He had no doubt that she would get it, his faith in her boundless, but the confirmation that she'll get to play the character she wants to is heartwarming, and he couldn't be happier for her.

He scans down the rest of the list, his mind registering some of the names.

  * Jordan Kyle - Adam/The Beast
  * Jace Lightwood-Herondale - Gaston
  * Raphael Santiago - LeFou
  * Magnus Bane - Lumière
  * Ragnor Fell - Cogsworth



He knows Jordan, vaguely - he's the on-and-off boyfriend of Maia, who Alec wouldn't necessarily classify as a friend, but more than an acquaintance - and he's pretty sure he shares a class with Raphael, but he doesn't really know the other two. And Jace, of course, he knows - he wonders what his reaction to playing Gaston will be.

He'll probably love it. In fact, Alec realises, he'll likely take the mantle of 'ladies man' until the play is over. So, that will be something to look forward to.

There are more names, he notices, one arm still wrapped around Isabelle's shoulders, her arm around his waist.

  * Catarina Loss - Mrs Potts
  * Julian Blackthorn - Chip
  * Camille Belcourt - Featherduster
  * Miscellaneous Cast - To Be Determined



He knows Julian through his sister, Helen, as she's the girlfriend of a family friend of his, but he doesn't think he's ever met Catarina before. Camille rings a bell, vaguely, but if he remembers correctly the featherduster doesn't play a huge role anyway, so he supposes he probably doesn't need to know who she is. As for the last one - he's not entirely sure why the miscellaneous cast isn't determined yet, but he hopes it doesn't mean that  _he_ has to act.

He did not join the drama club to act.

"At least I know Jordan." Isabelle comments idly. "And Jace as Gaston will certainly be better than him as the Beast. I wonder if I can convince Malcolm to let me to slap him or something. That would be fun."

Alec shakes his head fondly, and is about to reply with something along the lines of "when have you ever needed an excuse", when he's prevented by a smooth, moderately deep voice startlingly close to him.

"Hm, Lumière. Well, it sure is an interesting role, and probably a fun one. Though I can't say that I'm disappointed I didn't get the lead - all that fur would be ghastly, and would surely be disastrous for my rep."

Alec glances sideway, to a teenager only just shorter than him - surprising with how rare his own height is - and glitter in his spiked hair. There's makeup around his green eyes too, causing them to stand out even brighter, and Alec wonders absently how much confidence a person - _a guy_ \- would need to wear makeup in public so proudly.

"Of course, I _will_ be dressed as a _candle_ , so I suppose there are pros and cons to every role."

The guy glances back at Alec, the surprise freezing Alec so that he can't look away. He expects, for a moment, the guy to get annoyed at his staring, but he doesn't. Instead, he just stares back, an amused and curious smile playing across his mouth - _which appears to have gloss on it._

Huh. Interesting.

"I don't think we've met before." The guy says, casually, although his eyes are sparkling with a peculiar mirth.

Alec's reply is short and blunt. "Alec."

He's not sure why his name earns him a bigger smile, but it does, and he can feel the tips of his ears getting warmer the longer the contact between them goes without breaking.

"I'm Magnus," Comes the reply, which, now that Alec thinks about it, does sound familair. He probably would of remembered had he thought about it instead of staring at the glitter flecked on Magnus' cheeks.

Magnus glances at the casting sheet, and Alec blinks, heat rising on his cheeks as he realises just how long he had actually been staring.

"You're not in the play?" Magnus comments, framing it as a question. Alec begins to shake his head, and then pauses, mulling over Magnus' words.

"Well, not - technically. I'm, uh, I'm part of the crew. My, my sister Isabelle wanted me to join but I'm ... I'm not really the acting type, as it were. So I'm part of the actual, production team."

"I've always believed that a cast could not exist without a crew." Magnus says. His eyes flick to the board and then back to Alec.

"Isabelle ... Lightwood?" He asks.

Alec nods, wondering why his sister is suddenly so important. He then chastises himself for being so rude, even if it is within his own mind. Simply because Magnus is interesting and kind of very nice to look at, does not mean he should be upset that Magnus is asking about Isabelle.

"She's playing Belle - that's a very big role, you must be really proud."

Alec smiles, as he always does when his sister is mentioned in a positive light.

"Yeah, I am." He admits. "And she's really excited too."

Magnus smiles too, but his seems more casual and smooth than Alec's usually are. There's a sparkle in his eyes that distracts Alec momentarily, enough for him to miss what Magnus says.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." He apologises, the heat on his cheeks brightening.

Magnus' grin seems to widen. "That's quite alright. I was just commenting on how close you seem - you don't really see that a lot. It's a nice change."

"Do you have any siblings?" Alec asks, believing that's where Magnus was leading.

A shadow falls across Magnus eyes. It's gone in the blink of an eye, but Alec doesn't think he's imagined it.

"No, I don't." Magnus answers, his voice a little flatter. Before Alec can comment Magnus appears to pull himself together, the brightness back in his eyes, the amused smirk playing across his lips.

"Would you like to join me at lunch?" Magnus asks. "Today?"

"S-sure." Alec replies. "I don't - I don't mean to sound rude, but - why?"

Magnus shrugs. "Because I think you're interesting. And I'd like to get to know you better."

Alec looks back, just in case his sister is there, not that he actually expects her to be. She's not, as it so happens, but when he returns his gaze to Magnus, he finds that he doesn't want to say no.

And so he answers before he can change his mind.

"I'd love to. I'll just have to text my sister, first. " He explains. Magnus nods, and then steps back slowly.

"I'll see you then, Alec." He says waving.

All Alec can do is wave back jerkily, and wonder why his heart is suddenly beating faster in his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

Lunch with Magnus is ... interesting, to say the least. It's not just the two of them, which worries Alec at first but quickly stops being a problem, because Catarina is lovely - and well suited as Mrs Potts - Raphael keeps his opinions to himself, assuming he has them, and Ragnor's comments are dry and unaffecting as long as Alec doesn't take them to heart.

Which is easier said than done, admittedly, but Magnus keeps shooting him happy grins and asking him questions, occasionally about himself but also about his siblings, which Alec appreciates because there's no one he holds above them. It's nice, that Magnus seems to understand that, and the questions he asks seem to come from a genuine curiosity to know more about Alec - which Alec realises, even if he doesn't really understand why.

He's not really that interesting, not like Magnus is.

And yet, Magnus seems to think he is, and it's ... it feels nice. It's different, and a little weird, but still, nice.

The bell rings for class, and for a moment Alec almost believes he's imagined Magnus' face fall. He stands up, and the others drift away - Catarina says it was nice meeting him, and waves cheerfully at him - but Magnus doesn't move, and Alec doesn't want to leave either, because that would be rude. And Magnus is looking at him like he's waiting for something, or looking for it - Alec isn't really sure what, or really why.

"Same thing tomorrow?" Magnus asks, after a few minutes of slightly awkward silence - at least it's awkward for Alec.

Magnus looks nervous, not that Alec can figure out why.

"Yeah, sure." He says. He smiles, kind of, at least he's trying to - it's not something he does a lot. Smile. Intentionally.

But Magnus is smiling back, and he looks at least three times more happy than he was, which is interesting considering how much of a happy person he already seems.

"I look forward to it." Magnus says, and then he waves, and he's gone, and Alec stands there for a few seconds before realising that he too does in fact have class, which he should really be getting to right about now.

He's only known Magnus for a few hours, but it feels like so much more.

 

* * *

 

 

Although Alec is reluctant to admit it out loud, drama club turns out to actually be kind of bearable. They have meetings every Tuesday and Thursday after school - or at least, _he_ does. The actual cast have to go on Wednesday's too, and in about a month there will be lunchtime sessions, reportedly, but for him it's just two afternoons a week, and he can handle that.

He spends the first two weeks with Clary, Helen and occasionally Simon - when he's not working with Lily on the sheet music. They plan and design the sets, with the creative input of Malcolm, and occasionally the cast, some of which, but not all, is actually helpful.

Isabelle suggests grey instead of black for the Beast's castle, as it will shine better with low light on it.

Magnus suggests glitter for Lumière's jacket at the end, and at first Alec cringes, but then Clary starts talking about glitter over certain parts to accentuate the gold and then Helen suggests an a sort of shimmering pomade to accentuate Lumière's hair when he's still a candle and they both get Magnus that excited that Alec gives up any hope of trying to convince them otherwise.

Although, secretly, he thinks that it might just work. If it's done tastefully, which he has full faith it will, because Magnus seems to be a big one for crazy ideas that somehow work out.

He also has crazy ideas that don't work.

"But if I am spending the majority of the play _in gold_ , and with _gold hair,_ it seems only fair that I can wear a different colour once I am human again."

"I'm not saying that isn't a fair point." Clary allows. "I am just saying that I don't think neon green and bright purple are your best options."

Magnus smirks, and Alec gets the feeling that he's not entirely serious. He's not really sure where the feeling comes from, as he barely knows Magnus, but there's just something about the sparkle in his eyes that tips Alec off.

He scoffs, in what could possibly be mistaken as a choke of a laugh. He covers it up with a cough, hand over his mouth, but his eyes lock on Magnus' and he finds himself on a strange level of understanding.

It's different. But still nice.

Magnus grins and stands up with a flourish. Alec thinks he'd find it ostentatious from anybody else. Just another, somewhat pleasant, surprise from someone who acts very mature for a teenager.

"I have to read through lines with Ragnor - who will undoubtedly despise me by the time we have finished this, which I suppose is actually good for the play." Magnus explains, brushing off imaginary lint from his jeans, which are as impeccably clean as they were when he sat down.

"Have fun with your Hollywood-standard arts and crafts."

Clary rolls her eyes, but she's grinning - almost fondly.

"Have fun with your wannabe pirate's lifestyle." She fires back. Magnus waves, his eyes locking onto Alec's momentarily before he departs with a coy smile.

"You two are very-" Helen pauses mid-sentence. She glances at Alec, for some reason, before continuing. "Friendly."

"I've known him since I was a kid." Clary explains. Alec tries to shove down his own surprise, but it's hard.

"He's like my brother, honestly. I can't even remember how we met ... he's just always ... it's kind of like Luke, you know, in that he's just - he's just always _been_ around."

Helen nods, and Alec gets it, it makes sense - he's just surprised, because he can't recall Clary ever mentioning him before. Of course, at the start he hadn't really listened to anything she'd said, too caught up in despising her presence ... and it's stupid of him to be surprised, he doesn't know Magnus that well as it is, so it's really not that unrealistic that Magnus hasn't mentioned Clary either.

He's just ... Magnus is interesting. That's all. He's different. Alec's a naturally curious person. And Magnus isn't quite like anyone Alec has ever met before.

It's nothing more than plain, adolescent curiosity.

He can feel Clary's eyes on him, Helen's too, and he's not sure why, and the more it continues the more uncomfortable he starts to get.

"What?" He asks, wondering if he's got something on his face, if that is why they're staring at him? Did he miss them asking a question or saying something to him? He did daze off a little bit, it's entirely plausible.

"Nothing." Clary answers quickly. She turns to the sketchbook of rough designs in front of her. "We should probably figure out the logistics of the costumes themselves, to make sure everyone actually looks like the characters they are supposed to."

"Sure," Alec says, still a little caught up in wondering why she didn't answer him properly. "Who's actually going to make the costumes?"

"My mum volunteered." Clary answers. Jocelyn Fairchild is just as, if not more, artistic as her daughter - he can understand the reasoning behind the choice. It makes sense. And besides, Jocelyn is bound to have more time to actually make the costumes than any of the rest of them are.

"I actually think she's more excited than I am." Clary jokes.

Helen grins. "I understand, Julian's over the moon to be playing Chip - I didn't expect him to be so excited, but he's ... it's crazy. Even Emma thinks he's lost his mind."

Alec laughs softly, and Helen's sharp gaze turns to him. "Actually, I haven't brought it up yet, but - I'm a little surprised about how interested you are."

There's a sparkle in Clary's eyes that makes Alec feel a little uncomfortable, simply because he doesn't understand why it is there.

"Isabelle kind of roped me into it." He explains, slowly. Warily. "And, you know, when I found out that it was more hands-on than on-stage, I kind of - it didn't sound too bad. And so far, it _hasn't_ been that bad."

The left corner of his mouth tugs up uninhibitedly.

Clary whispers something to Helen, who giggles lightly, leaving Alec even more confused than he had been before. He shakes his head in exasperation.

"Even with a sister I still do not understand the logics of girls."

Helen rolls her eyes. "Or maybe the problem is more that you're just not interested in them." She snipes.

Alec stares at her, but between Clary's barely disguised laughter and Helen's bright smirk and daring eyes he barely manages to hold his resolve for ten seconds before it cracks and he ends up laughing along with them.

"I think you know enough to fill what I don't." He scoffs back. Yeah, he can joke too.

Helen's eyes visibly widen. "Colour me surprised." She turns to Clary. "Did Alec _actually_ just make a joke?"

Clary nods. "I think he just might have."

Alec huffs, wondering how things turned so quickly against him, and what the likelihood of him gaining back power is. The answer is, of course, very slim, but he does entertain the idea for a few seconds before abandoning all hope.

"Can we just get back to work, please?" He asks, exasperatedly.

Clary nods, Helen smirks, and he knows that there's no chance he's going to get what he wants. He ignores the smug satisfaction in both girls' eyes and turns his attention to his notebook, where he's jotted down the things they needed to get done that day.

Every now and then he thinks he can feel somebody watching him, but whenever he lifts his head to look, he doesn't see anything. He tries to shake it off as nothing, just a trick of his mind, but it stays with him.

Of course, it doesn't help that Clary and Helen keep sneaking glances at him with enough self-satisfaction to rival Jace every few minutes. They know something, or they think they do, and the fact that _he_ doesn't know what is stupidly irritating. He knows he shouldn't care, but that only makes him care more, because he hates not knowing, hates being out of the loop.

It's ridiculous. And pointless. But it is who he is.

Every now and then he himself will catch a glimpse of his sister, or Jace, acting out their parts, and it's interesting, to seem them so transformed. His eyes are drawn to Magnus too, strangely. Alec blames it on his enthralling performances - he's not even in costume, and yet Alec can feel himself being transported into the seat of the audience on opening night.

He's never met anyone quite like Magnus before, and it certainly comes across through his performance. It's an exciting thought, to know that he'll get to glimpse more moments like this in the future, and that he'll have practically a first-row view for the play itself, once everything is polished to gleaming perfection.

It's an interesting thought, and he uses that as the basis for his excitment every time he remembers he has a drama club meeting.

And not because of the certain person who's casted as a certain gold and glimmering anthropormorphic candle.

 

* * *

 

 

"Alec, please tell me that you're not doing anything."

Alec looks up, eyesbrows raised, as Clary rushes up to him. He glances towards the piles of highlighted scripts in front of him, and then back up.

"No, I'm actually bored out of my mind." He says sarcastically. Clary rolls her eyes and continues.

"Look, I know you're supposed to be working on marking what props are needed when and stage-blocking and what-not but I really need someone to help me with painting the sets because I need to show Malcolm some fabric swatches for the costumes and Helen's sick and Simon and Lily are both rehearsing with the band and I really need the sets down ASAP."

"Alright, alright," Alec sighs. "Stop freaking out, I'll help. It's just painting."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." Clary hugs Alec side-on, one-armed, and it's a little akward but thankfully short, mainly because Clary really doesn't have the time.

There's still a couple of months until the actual performances themselves, but tension is starting to run high - for both cast and crew, although Alec sometimes thinks that the crew are feeling the pressure more because if they're not ahead of things the play can't actually happen.

But he quickly learnt that it's a stupid idea to try and tell _drama kids_ that they _weren't the most important people_ in the play.

Clary leads Alec over into the adjoining art room, where the props and backdrops are being safely held.

"It's sketched out already, there's plans in a notepad - literally all you need to do is paint. I've also managed to con-"

"Alexander!"

Alec's startled at the pure delight expressed in Magnus' tone.

"Magnus has also agreed to help, as you can now see." Clary finishes, her words dying off at the end.

Magnus is perched on the floor, in crisp white pants, a violet shirt with a grey vest and a bright blue belt, his feet clad in red doc martens. Such an ensemble would look ridiculous on anyone else, but on Magnus it just - it just _works_ somehow.

Not that Alec is paying any attention to Magnus' outfit.

"Oh, my day has just brightened beyond expectation. Like the sun poking through fog, a rainbow after a rainy day-"

"Magnus, enough with the romanticised metaphors you have work to do."

Clary turns to Alec, squeezing his shoulder once before pulling away. "Thank you for doing this, Alec, I appreciate it so much."

"Anytime." Alec answers, and he means it - he's never one to really turn down the chance to help when asked for it.

She glances between them, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "I'll leave you both to it. If you do a good job there might be a reward involved."

"Chocolate is preferred." Magnus calls out as Clary walks out.

She lifts a hand in response, and then she's gone and it's just the two of them, and for the first time in the past five minutes Alec actually has a chance to reflect over what he's just promised to do, and who he's going to do it with. Which sounds far worse than he means it to, even inside of his own head.

Magnus pats the floor beside him. "Come join the peasants on the lower floor."

"Firstly," Alec replies as he walks over. "There is only two of us."

Magnus smirks and Alec ignores him as he sits down. "Secondly, you're not exactly a _peasant._ "

"And thirdly?" Magnus asks, handing Alec a paintbrush.

Alec frowns. He doesn't have a third option. Damn it.

He scowls instead of answering, dipping the paintbrush in the black, to start marking out the lines of the forest. It's a pretty simple scene, and most of it will be done in dim light so they only need a basic outline of the trees and the darkness, as lighting on the day will help with the glowing red of the wolves eyes - which is probably why Clary got them to do this part.

Alec doesn't have the best artistic skills in the world, admittedly, but after about twenty minutes he realises he looks like freaking Michaelangelo compared to Magnus. Where his streaks are clean and precise, Magnus looks like he's finger painting despite the brush in his hand.

Regardless, Alec keeps his mouth shut, concerntrating on his own side of the canvas and not the mess of colours on Magnus' side - seriously, how the hell can he muddle dark colours up, sure, they're supposed to be mixed but still discernible. How are the audience going to see the shadows if they're blended?

Alec manages to grit his teeth and keep his thoughts to himself for roughly half-an-hour. Eventually, the internal stream of _it doesn't matter, just ignore it, if you don't look you won't notice_ becomes too much and he can't keep his mouth shut for any longer.

"What are you doing?" He blurts out. And, okay, so that came out a little harsher than he'd expected. But it's not like he can exactly take it back, it's all out in the universe now.

Strangely, Magnus doesn't even look upset, or angry. He looks amused, if anything, which Alec was certainly not expecting.

"Well, I was under the impression that I was _painting_ ... you know, like Clary asked me to."

Alec rolls his eyes, and dips his brush into the bucket of water next to the paint, to keep it from drying out.

"That is not painting." He states. "That is recklessly smearing a dark acrylic substance on a canvas and _calling_ it painting."

"People splash colour onto a blank canvas and call it art all the time." Magnus fires back.

'Yes, but, but this-" Alec waves his hand at Magnus' half. "I'm sorry, Magnus, but this is just - it honestly looks like it's been painted by a third-grader."

Magnus places a hand over his heart in dramatic hurt. "How dare you! I am an artiste, and you have the nerve to criticise my work?"

Alec blinks slowly. "Magnus. I'm really sorry. But you're terrible. And you're not an artiste, you're a teenager acting in a high school play. I mean, you should probably just _stick_ to acting, you're much better at it."

"I am going to take that as a compliment." Magnus says, pouting slightly. "And pretend you didn't just insult me."

Alec frowns and leans back on one arm. "How did I insult you? I just told you the truth. It would be insulting if I told you that you were, I don't know, the best painter I've ever seen or something like that."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Magnus replies, and he's smirking in that infuriating way that just makes him look even more attractive than he usually does, not that Alec finds him very attractive. "But terrible ... oh, my hopes and dreams are utterly shattered beyond repair now, that's it, I'm ruined."

Alec knows he's joking. He's spent enough time with Magnus this past month or so to know that he is joking - the quirk of his mouth, the twinkling sparkle of mischeif in his eyes, the casualty to his gestures. They're friends, by now, or at least Alec thinks they are - and if he sometimes wants to be more, than he can just blame it on adolescent curiosity and hormones or something of the like.

Because it's not as though Magnus likes him back, not in that way, at least.

"You're hopes and dreams of painting sets?" Alec asks.

"And now you're mocking me." Magnus states, sighing exasperatedly. "When will the torturous teasing end?"

When Isabelle asks him later, Alec won't have a very good answer for why he does what he does, because the truth of the matter is, he doesn't really take notice of it. He doesn't think about why, he just does.

The paint lands on Magnus shoulder, flicking up the side of his face, and for a moment there is nothing but suspended silence.

And then Alec starts laughing, without thought, because Magnus' jaw is slack and his eyes are wide and there is just something comical about his surprise. It also feels good, to laugh, but also to just do something without thinking about it.

He's a little too distracted, what with almost choking on his own laughter, to notice Magnus' hand picking up his own paintbrush, misses him dipping it into the green they have for the leaves and bushes.

He doesn't, however, miss the paint when it's flicked up his arm. Or the second splash when it hits his neck.

"Is this the game we're playing?" He asks.

Magnus quirks an eyebrow. "Apparently. You're the one who started it - you tell me."

Alec dips his paintbrush into the black and aims low, at Magnus' knees. The black against white is an interesting and startling contrast, and Magnus' shocked gasp makes the moment that much more memorable.

"Oh, the game is most certainly on, now."

Alec's surprised at the hint of a reference - he knows he shouldn't be surprised that Magnus watches TV but to have the reference just thrown out there is nice as much as it is strange. A bit like Magnus, he supposes - a little strange yet full of nice surprises.

Magnus' offense is, at first, to simply dip his brush into whatever paint he can access and then flinging it at any part of Alec he can reach. Alec's approach is a little more concise, aiming at the places he know will - for lack of a better word hurt - Magnus the most; his white pants, specifically, but also his vest, and certainly his perfectly styled hair.

They spiral into laughter, paint flying everywhere yet somehow not on the canvas - they stand up after things get really heated and end up stepping away from the canvas without giving it much thought, something sure to save them when Clary walks back in and finds the state they have ended up in.

They're going to have a lot of explaining to do.

"Alright, time out, time out. I surrender, I'm waving my figurative white flag, truce and peace and all that."

Alec drops his hand down, paintbrush already discarded. Magnus is a mess, paint smearing his previously pristine white pants, a handprint plastered on his cheek from when Alec had abandoned the brush and chosen to just go all in, no-holds-barred. He knows he hasn't been spared the colourful onslaught, although the damage is a little more concealed due to his darker clothes, but there is definitely some white in his hair because he had seen Magnus reach out, seen his hand covered in the paint before it had been dragged through his hair.

"Does this mean that I won?" Alec asks.

"You're a little competitive, aren't you?" Magnus asks in return. Alec shrugs, unable to help himself from grinning.

"Usually I am too," Magnus admits. "But this time, it didn't really seem to matter."

"So what you're saying, is that you have finally met your match?"

Magnus' head tilts slightly to the left, his eyes curious and almost calculating. "It definitely seems like it."

They seep into silence, the situation suddenly a lot more serious than it had been a few seconds ago when things were more fun and easy and light. Magnus' gaze is unwavering and bold, piercing, heated. His eyes flicker, from Alec's eyes to his nose to his cheeks and lips and neck and just, just _everywhere._ Alec has no choice but to stare back, mainly because his brain has decided that he doesn't actually get the luxury of any other options.

"Actually, truth be told," Magnus says, eventually, breaking the silence in a soft and gentle voice. "I don't think I have ever met anyone like you, before."

"I-Is that so?" Alec asks, leaning in subconsciously.

Magnus nods, taking a very evident step forward. "You're one of the most interesting people I have ever met, full of surprises and so unbelievably kind and generous for someone our age. It's refreshing."

"I didn't realise you saw me as a glass of lemonade." Alec replies, because he can feel the atmosphere shifting into something unfamiliar and he doesn't know how to deal with it, so his mind helpfully supplies him with a string of words thrown into a weak sentence.

Magnus' laughs, and it's airy and such a delightful sound that Alec wants to say something else, something funny, so that Magnus keeps laughing, keeps making that delightful sound.

"I see you as so much more than just a glass of lemonade." Magnus replies, winking. It's cheesy and over-the-top and it, somehow, eases the situation slightly.

It's just Magnus. They're ... well, they're friends, by now, or at least something close to that. He's comfortable around Magnus, more than he is with a lot of people, and ... and whatever has or is going on isn't going to impact that.

He hopes.

But at the same time, he - well, he has to know. He can't _not_ ask.

"W-What ... what do you see me as, then?"

Well," Magnus takes another step forward, and then his paint-freckled face is a lot closer to Alec, close enough for him to see the flecks of gold in Magnus' bright green eyes. "I see you as a friend, someone I'm glad I've gotten to spend time with."

"Yeah," Alec says, breathily, the word coming out as almost-but-not-quite a question.

"Yeah." Magnus lifts a hand to play with the snake cuff on his ear, a habit Alec has noticed only appears when he's nervous or apprehensive - something that, admittedly, doesn't happen a lot to him.

"You're also, you know, really clever and intuitive and honourable and ... I guess, I see you as - well, as the cute guy I ... I kind of have a crush on."

Alec hasn't known Magnus for very long, but he's been under the impression from the moment they met that Magnus doesn't get nervous very often. He's sure-footed and strong-minded and he's always in control of - everything, from his words to his actions to the way he _stands_.

And yet here he is, confessing his, his _attraction_ to someone he's just thrown paint at, and his smile is weak around the corners and Alec has never felt like the more confident person in the dynamic of their recently-created friendship, before.

"You think I'm ... you have a _crush_ , on - on _me_?"

Magnus nods, once, twice. Alec lifts a hand up to rub the back of his neck, absently wondering how much paint is going to be left in the ends of his hair. He does, of course, have more important things to be thinking about - like the fact that his crush has just admitted to reciprocating his feelings - but he's also finding it a little hard to get his thoughts in order.

"That's not a problem, is it?" Magnus asks quietly.

"No," Alec answers automatically. "That - that is to say ... I mean, I ... I kind of have a, a crush on you, too."

Magnus exhales, and Alec could be imagining it, but it sounds almost relieved.

"Funny how these things work out, isn't it?" Magnus says.

"Yeah," Alec replies. "Althought, it would have been nicer if we could have done this a few weeks ago."

"Where would be the fun in that?" Magnus asks. "I personally think it would be a dreadful mistake if we had of missed out on this hilarious paint-fight-slash-bonding-confession-session."

"Confession-session?" Alec echoes.

Magnus shrugs one shoulder, casually. The movement causes his hand to brush against Alec's, and it sends a spark racing up Alec's arm. "I had to call it something."

"I can think of plenty of better options."

"Like what?"

Alec's cheeks heat up, and he grits his teeth to try and force it down. "I don't know. But I'm sure they'd be better than what you came up with."

Magnus's smile is bright and warm. "Possibly. You know, you're even cuter when you blush."

Magnus' words don't help Alec calm himself down, the heat instead creeping up to the tips of his ears, and the room is suddenly very hot and the distance between them is very, very small. Practically non-existent.

Magnus reaches out, and takes Alec's hand inside of his, and something clicks. _This feels right_ , Alec thinks. He can't even remember what he had been worried about.

This is just Magnus, and, yeah, he happens to have a crush on Alec, back, and yes, it's quite possible that this could - or will - lead to ... somewhere. But it's not as terrifying as he'd been buidling it all up to be.

And it all started because of a damn play.

 

* * *

 

Magnus and Alec do, start dating, slowly, casually, taking their time to discover how it's all supposed to work. Rehearsals continue and the play evolves into something awesome, leaving everyone who works on it proud to admit their involvement.

They don't keep it quiet, necessarily, but they also don't shout it out from the rooftops. So it's quite a surprise for Alec, on opening night when he is waiting in the wings for the curtains to drop and the show to end, when Magnus suddenly appears out of nowhere to tug him close and press their lips together.

They've kissed before, a few times, but not in front of other people, and not when Magnus was covered in glitter and gold and creamy breeches. They have barely a minute before the cast are required on stage for the encore, but Magnus tangles his hands in Alec's hair and Alec is too busy melting into it to really care about what is going on in the rest of the damn world.

But reality is brought back when Ragnor taps impatiently on Magnus' shoulder and kindly (grumpily) reminds him that they have a play to finish if he could remove his lips from Alec's for even a second to remember that.

Alec blushes furiously and steps back, further into the wings where he can't be tempted - or, more to the point, where he's far enough to make resisting easier.

Magnus winks and then rushes back onto stage with the rest of the cast, and Alec takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. Clary sidles up and bumps his shoulder, smiling kindly.

"You two are really cute together," She says, casually. "And I've never seen either of you so happy, before."

"I don't think I've been this happy before." Alec admits quietly. "He's - he's incredible, Clary, he's just - he's amazing."

Clary grins knowingly, but she doesn't say anything else, which Alec is grateful for. He already has a lot of thoughts and emotions confusing and overwhelming him, he doesn't really need anymore to cloud him. He just wants to appreciate the moment, appreciate that what he has with Magnus is genuinely real and happening and _a thing he's lucky enough to have._

He's not foolish enough to thank Isabelle for signing him up for drama club. But silently, within his own mind, he can admit that if it weren't for her, he wouldn't be dating Magnus.

He's grateful she forced him into it. But that doesn't mean that he actually has to tell her that.

He'd never hear the end of it.

**Author's Note:**

> probs going to have more to this. we'll see. i really hope you like this - it's a little different but it was a lot of fun to write. :D


End file.
